


My Name is Nathan

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-23
Updated: 2009-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:50:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Explosions think that hosting an exchange student will be a good influence on their son, and that student turns out to be Toki. Just playing with another pre-Dethklok scenario.<br/>This goes on to cover the forming of Dethklok.</p><p>Pardon my obvious ignorance (at the time) of corpse paint.  I have no real excuse there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exchange Student

**Author's Note:**

> Will is not Murderface. (Why did I name him Will? Because I wanted to.)  
> Nathan’s POV  
> Warnings: As with anything young Toki related, mentions of child abuse. Also, several OC’s due to the time frame, but I’m trying to keep them as un-Sue-like as possible.

It was at one of those forced “family time” dinners when they dropped the bomb. No, not like a nuclear one, just a news bomb. I noticed their “we have something wonderful to tell you” looks, which means whatever it is, it’s NOT going to be wonderful in any way.  
“Son, we have something we need to tell you.”  
Oh shit, if it’s another baby I’m killing myself now.  
“We applied to host a foreign exchange student, and we were approved! We’ve selected a young man from Norway, his plane gets in tomorrow. Oh, we just know you’re going to be very special friends!”  
No point even saying anything, they don’t give a shit what I think, never did. Why couldn’t they at least get a hot chick, if they insisted on doing this to me? Screw them.  
“I gotta go to band practice.”

Our jam room’s in Dave’s garage, he’s the only one of us with his own place. He’s a pretty good guitarist, not the best or anything, but solid enough. Besides, we need him, he’s the only one old enough to buy us beer or book our shows in bars. Whenever we actually get a show, that is.  
The others are already here, I’m late. Stupid parents. I should have made them give me a ride. It’s only a couple blocks, but still.  
Will is waiting for me outside, smoking. He’s one of my best friends, even though he’s really weird looking. Tall and super lanky, with really thick glasses. Makes him look like a demented grasshopper or something when he’s drumming.  
“Hey Nate, good thing you’re here. Dave got us a gig, and we have to pick a name so we can play. Todd’s still pushing for Psychedelic Barflies, I don’t know what the hell his problem is.”  
“Oh fuck no, we’re not calling ourselves that!”  
We go in, detouring through the kitchen to grab some beers.

Hmm, nobody cleaned up the garage, still cans everywhere. Whatever.  
“So you got us a gig? For real?”  
Dave flips his frizzy blond hair, a really annoying habit. “I sure did, this Saturday at that new club that just opened. So we need a name, like now. I almost went ahead and told them Bats N Snakes, but I figured I better ask everybody first.”  
“Man, I know you love that Snakes N Barrels shit, but we are NOT calling our band that.”  
And now Todd will start whining for his choice... yep here he goes.  
“I want Psychedelic Barflies, it’s totally cool!”  
“Um, no. Will, back me up here?” I can always count on Will.  
“Yeah dude, barflies are like, sluts. Not very metal.”  
Yeah, the name needs to be metal. And brutal. Hmm.  
Dave isn’t willing to give up on his snakes. “Metal, huh? So maybe, Metal Snakes? Come on Nate, snakes are metal, right?”  
“Um, yeah. Kinda. Maybe uh, _Brutal_ Metal Snake? Yeah, that actually sounds pretty cool.”  
Nobody disagrees. Todd looked like he wants to, but I just glare at him. That usually works on the whiny little shrimp.  
With the band name finally chosen, we practice. Yeah, we’re getting pretty good.

The next day at school, I can’t stop thinking about how we are finally going to play in a club. And also that when I get home, there’ll be some little European bastard living in my house.  
I hate him already.  
The day drags by, they way they do sometimes. I’ve never figured that one out. Some days are really fast, and some take forever, but the clock says they’re all the same.  
What kind of person signs up to be an exchange student anyway? He’s probably some total dork. They said where he’s from, but I can’t remember. Probably France or something. Probably wears striped shirts and those weird, flat hats.  
Maybe he’s a mime, that would be cool because then he wouldn’t talk. And he’d like, get stuck in a box, and I could just ignore him.  
Finally, the day ends. The school day anyway.

Mom meets me on the porch, greeting me int that perky “everything’s so wonderful” voice that I hate.  
“Nathan! Come in and meet our houseguest!”  
Having no choice, I go in. It’s MY house too, after all.  
He’s in the living room with Dad. Huh, this isn’t some scrawny little geek little like I’d pictured. His shirt is loose, but his arms are pretty big. And his hair is longer than mine. They bitch about my hair so much, but I refuse to let them cut it again. It’s finally starting to grow out a little.  
Mom’s still doing that voice.  
“Nathan, this is Toki Wartooth, out exchange student from Norway! Toki, this is our son Nathan!”  
Does he even speak English? Yes, apparently he does.  
“”Hi Nathan, it is nice to be meetings you.”  
“Uh, hi.”  
“Guess what Nathan, Toki plays guitar! Maybe he can be in your little band too!”  
“No Mom. Dave’s the guitarist! We don’t need another one.”  
“Well, we’ll let you two get acquainted.”  
Whatever, I head for my room.  
To my annoyance, he follows me.

My room is unchanged, that’s good. At least they put him in the guest room, unfortunately it’s right next door. I toss my bag in the corner and sit on the bed, he stops in the doorway. Okay, I guess he’s not going to leave me alone until I talk to him. Great.  
“Um, come in?”  
He does, looking around, then sits next to me.  
“This will be funs, I never has a brother!”  
“Neither have I. Or wanted one.”  
He frowns at that. “I’s got to start your school tomorrows.”  
“Hey, uh, why the fuck are you switching now? There’s not much school left.”  
“I knows, but I’s staying for next years too.”  
Oh wonderful, stuck with him for... over a year. “And then after that?”  
“Then I be graduated.”  
Oh crap, how old is he anyway? Or is he some kind of genius? “Um, how old are you?”  
He thinks, either translating the number, or he doesn’t even fucking know how old he is.  
“Seventeen. How old is you?”  
Oh that’s just great. I don’t wanna answer, but he’ll find out anyway. “Fifteen. Well, next month anyway.”  
I lie back, ignoring him now.  
He takes the hint and goes away.

That night at dinner, he’s so annoying. Super polite and a total ass kisser.  
Despite his hair, my parents are fawning all over him, asking stupid questions.  
“So Toki, your parents run your local church, don’t they?”  
“Ja.”  
“I bet it snows a lot there, doesn’t it?”  
“Usually onlies in the winter.”  
I notice that he doesn’t seem thrilled with the questioning, but answers them all anyway.  
“Nathan’s on the football team, do you play football?”  
“Oh ja, I plays some at my old schools.”  
“Yeah? What position? Quarterback?”  
Give it up Dad, they’d never let him join the team this late. Why do you care anyway?  
“What is quarterback?”  
I can’t help laughing, Dad looks horrified, Mom defends her little project.  
“Oh Dear, in Europe, football is what we call soccer.”  
Dad looks embarrassed. Toki jumps up and offers to do the dishes.  
Whatever. No practice tonight, so I just go to my room. 

At school, he’s an instant celebrity, the new European guy everybody wants to get a look at. I notice he seems kind of uncomfortable with the attention. All day I have to hear all the chicks commenting on how cute they think he is. Ugh.  
We don’t have any classes together, but I didn’t expect we would since he’s like, a couple grades ahead of me.  
By the end of the week, it all changes. Now the chicks seem to be avoiding him or something. It’s weird. I ask Janey about it, just wondering. Oh yeah, Janey thinks she’s my girlfriend. Anyway, she tells me that everybody thinks he’s “super weird and creepy”, and they don’t want anything to do with him.  
“But I though you were all, like, in love with him or something? Like yesterday?”  
“Well, he’s really hot, but he’s just way too weird.”  
“Um, like how?” I gotta live with the guy, after all.  
“You know Beth, right?”  
Better than you think. “Yeah.”  
“She bet she could kiss him. He _totally_ freaked out over it too!”  
“Over a kiss? Huh? Who does that?”  
Janey giggled. “Well, she did stick her hand down his pants too. We dared her. But what the hell is his problem anyway?”  
Oh, like I’m gonna know that? “Uh... his parents are really religious? I think?”  
“You’re an idiot Nathan, but I love you.”

The day passes.  
When I leave for band practice, mom has another “great” idea.  
“Take Toki with you, I’m sure he’d love to see your band play!”  
I want to refuse, but she has that look she gets, so I just shrug. He gets up and follows me out the door. I guess I’d better get used to him going wherever I go.  
“Tells me about your band Nathan?”  
“Um, ok. I’m the singer, and my friend Will’s the drummer. Dave, it’s his house, he’s the guitarist. He’s kind of an asshole, but all guitarists are.” Oops, Toki’s a guitarist, right? Oh well. “And this guy Todd is the bassist. I don’t like him very much, but he plays pretty good.”  
He doesn’t respond to my “guitarists are assholes” comment, and just nods when I finish.  
I let myself in, as usual, and head for the kitchen, as usual.  
“Hey uh, Toki? Wanna beer?”  
He seems uncertain, but then nods. I grab them, hand him his, and we go into the jam room. 

I point to them. “That’s Dave, Will, and Todd. Um, this is the exchange student I’m stuck with. Toki. My mom made me bring him. Oh, he uh, plays guitar. He says.”  
Dave seems to study him. “Guitarist, huh? What kind do you have?”  
“I don’t haves one.”  
“A guitarist that doesn’t even have a guitar, okay. You wanna play mine, see what you can do?”  
Why is Dave being so nice? That’s not like him. Surely he doesn’t feel threatened by Toki?  
Toki looks at the guitar longingly, but shakes his head, flexing his left hand the way I’ve kinda noticed he does when he’s nervous.  
“No thanks, I think my fingers is still too stiffs.”  
He’s never mentioned that before. “Uh, why?”  
“They gets broken.”  
Dave looks horrified now, curling his own fingers protectively.  
“That sucks man, you have to take care of your fingers! How’d you do it?”  
“I wasn’t carefuls enough.”  
Dave lets it go at that, but I notice that Toki’s got a really weird look on his face. I punch him lightly in the arm. Don’t freak out here, everybody thinks you’re weird enough already.  
He nods at me, and goes and sits on the old couch we keep in the corner.

Saturday comes, and we’re getting ready to go play. Toki helps up break down and load, even though we don’t have that much stuff.  
Dave takes me aside.  
“Nate, I told the manager at the club that you’re eighteen, so tell them that if they ask, okay?”  
Uh, why?”  
“Because they didn’t want to book us with three minors, and you’re the only one who can probably pass for older. Do you have a fake ID?”  
“No. I should probably get one though. Hey, do you think I can pass for twenty-one?”  
He just shakes his head. Oh well.  
We tell the people at the club that Toki’s eighteen too, he almost is, so it’s not a huge stretch. They still mark our hands, but that’s cool. Toki doesn’t understand why he now has a huge black X on the back of his hand, and tries to rub it off.  
I stop him. “No man, leave it. Or they’ll throw you out. It just means the bartenders can’t sell you beer.”  
He shrugs, but quits messing with it and helps us set up. We do a quick sound check, then we wait.  
Dave tells us he’s got a bottle in the van, so we go out and drink some, we won’t be able to inside. Well, except for Dave, of course.

There’s not a big crowd. We’re getting to open for some small local band, and it’s early. Besides, we couldn’t invite people from school, they wouldn’t be able to get in. They’re only giving us time for five songs too.  
I’m kinda nervous. I mean, we’ve all been in bands before, but this is the first time for me and Will to play in a club. There’s a small crowd now, mostly just some of Dave’s friends, and people waiting to hear the other band.  
Because he’s the most experienced, and because he likes to be the center of attention, Dave moves to the front of the stage beside me. Oh boy, this is it.  
But when we start, it’s all okay. It’s all about the music. The lights are in my eyes, but I can still see the crowd watching, surprised. We’re pretty heavy, and people usually don’t expect a kid like me to be able to sing like I can. Will calls it my “death growl”, he tells me I’d be a great narrator for videos of wild animals eating hikers or something.  
Anyway, we fucking rock, they seem to really like us.  
The manager says we can play again, they’re trying to get some big acts but they only want metal. We may now be the unofficial opening band for anybody, I don’t know.  
It might even get us signed eventually, if the right people come through here.

Mom wakes me up the next morning, what the fuck? She’s all dressed up.  
“Nathan honey, we’re going to church. Would you like to join us?”  
Why would I want to do that? “No. And uh, since when do you got to church when it’s not a holiday?”  
“Well you see, it’s part of the agreement we made with Toki’s parents, we can’t neglect his spirituality. They only want what’s best for him, they sound like _such_ good people.”  
Whatever. “Well you can neglect MY spirituality, because I’m going back to sleep. Like, now.”  
She doesn’t push the issue, I knew she wouldn’t. I can usually get away with a lot with her. She leaves, and I wonder if Dad’s going to come in and _insist_ I go with them. Sometimes he does that kinda thing, just to be a dick.  
Nope, I hear the car start.  
If Toki’s parents are really so fucking wonderful, why didn’t he just stay there?  
I go back to sleep.

Okay, I’ve tried, but Toki is really getting on my nerves. He’s nice to everybody, he’s super polite, he studies, he gets good grades. It’s sickening, really. The only useful point I’ve found is his hair. Now, every time they start with the bitching, the “why won’t you get a haircut” crap, I just point out that Toki’s is way longer and they’re not bugging _him_ about it. That shuts them up, for a while anyway. Grow faster hair, grow faster.  
He’s really weird though. I mean, he’ll tag along with me, mostly because Mom tells him to, but he’s made no friends. And people are starting to ask me if he’s gay or something, since he ignores the chicks. I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think so, he’s never like, came on to me or anything. Or anybody else either. Maybe it’s just a foreign thing, I don’t know.  
He’s doing all my chores now. I never wanted to do all that crap in the first place, but it’s weird that he’s doing it.  
I think he’s trying to make me look bad. I don’t know why, but why else would anybody do all that crap? I do my best to just ignore him and go about my life, but he keeps tagging along.  
But it just gets harder and harder to ignore. Tolerate.

My parents fucking love him, I’m getting really sick of hearing it. All the “Toki’s so polite, Toki’s so helpful, why can’t you be more like Toki” crap. His ass kissing is way out of hand.  
I’ve had enough of this shit, I go to his room. He looks surprised. “Hey. Why do you keep trying to make me look bad? Why you gotta act so fucking helpful and all that shit? I’m sick of it!”  
“Oh shuts up Nathan, is not like I has a choice! They tells me that if I don’ts get good grades and don’ts be helpful, then I has to go home. I’s _never_ going back there!”  
“What? But I thought you loved your parents and really miss them and, like, all that?”  
I’m surprised. And confused. And for the first time, I’m seeing under the happy friendly easygoing front he always keeps in place.  
“I hates them, okays? I _hates_ them and I’s never going back! So I’s going to do whatever it takes to stays here, sorries if that pisses you off!”  
“Oh, um, well it’s not like I _want_ to mow the lawn and shit. I just, you know, thought you were trying to make me look bad. On purpose.”  
He shakes his head.  
“What the hell did you parents do anyway? To make you hate them?”  
He doesn’t answer me, won’t even look at me. He’s just staring at the wall. Okay, that’s pretty weird.  
I leave the room.

School’s finally out. I got my driving permit, it’s not a real licence but they let me drive some anyway. Besides, if I ever get pulled over, I’ll just give them my new fake ID that says I’m eighteen. It’s a really well made one, as long as no one looks too closely. And we used my real name on it too, so there’s nothing weird to have to remember.  
I should probably get a job or something, but I just want to enjoy my freedom. It feels like summer gets shorter every year. I don’t think I’m imagining this.  
We’re trying to write more songs, I’ve gotten in the habit of carrying a small notebook around with me everywhere so whenever I think of something really cool, I can write it down before I forget. Because, you know, you never know when a fatal car wreck or something brutal like that will happen, gotta be prepared. I’ve noticed that blood and death are very inspiring.  
Mom found my notebook once, and now they think I’m a devil worshiper. I should get probably a huge pentagram or something. And like, some black candles.  
I’m still kind of dating Janey. She says she’s my girlfriend, and I don’t argue. When I get sick of her, I just tell her I have to go to band practice, that always works. I’d just get rid of her, but she’s a lot of fun. You know, in bed. Except we’ve rarely done it in an actual bed, but whatever.  
Janey wants to go to the beach for the day. She wants to bring friends. It’s kinda a trade off, I hate listening to all that girl talk, but they’ll be mostly naked and most of her friends are hot. So I agree.

Mom makes me take him to the beach with us. My girl is pissed, She doesn’t like him and neither do her two friends she’s dragging along. He didn’t seem too happy about it either, which was really weird. Who doesn’t love the beach? And doesn’t he know there will be tons of mostly naked hot chicks there? Or does he even like chicks? I’ve never figured that one out.  
Janey and her friends pointedly ignore him the whole way there, but he pays them no attention. He usually doesn’t. He just stares out the window in that weird unseeing way he has.  
Then we had to find the “perfect” place. Girls. Finally, they were happy and we stopped. They made a big deal out of lining up their towels and all that, and arranging themselves on them. What’s the point of beach towels anyway, you’re gonna get sand all over you no matter what you do. I strip off my shirt and sit in the sand next to Janey, admiring the view.  
She isn’t looking at me. I hear her say softly, “Oh my,” and I look up.  
Toki has taken his shirt off. He’s more built than I would have thought, you’d think my girlfriend would have the decency not to admire him right next to me.  
Then I realize what she's really staring at. His back. A network of scars, some faded almost invisible, some still bright pink. What the hell happened to him? Some of that shit is _old_.  
He notices our looks. With an unreadable expression, he puts his shirt back on and stalks over to some shade. He sits there, refusing to look at us.  
I have no idea what to do, so I try to just ignore him. That seems to be what he wants anyway.  
I put lotion on the girls, swim some, just have fun.  
Toki stays under his tree and watches us all.

Dad demands we get summer jobs. I’m okay with the idea, you know, making money and all. But I’m fifteen, who’s gonna hire me? And I refuse to flip burgers. Just, no way.  
He tells me that this guy he knows is willing to hire us both. It’s construction work, he’s not supposed to hire anyone under eighteen, but he’ll do it anyway.  
We start Monday. Dan, that’s the contractor’s name, tells us he’ll pay us $4 and hour. That’s not quite minimum wage, but he’s paying us cash under the table, so it works out to about the same.  
Toki seems excited, I guess he’s never had a paying job before. He’ll get sick of it soon enough.  
We don’t get to actually help them build, they just want us for the grunt work. We’re both pretty strong though, so that’s okay. Unload lumber, stack it up, bring the guys what they ask for. And it’s not easy to climb a ladder with a 2x12, those things are really heavy.  
A lot of the guys work shirtless, so I join them. It’s really hot out here. Toki always keeps his shirt on though, and I know why. He doesn’t want anybody to see his back. I just can’t help wondering what happened to him, but that’s just, you know, not something you ask.  
Getting paid is good though.

I’ve learned something about Toki. You kinda have to watch him when he drinks. He’s fine with a few beers, but when he decides to get drunk, he’s a mess. Either he can’t tell how drunk he really is, or just doesn’t care. He’ll keep drinking until he pukes and passes out. We’ve all learned to cut him off so we don’t have to clean up after him, because that really sucks.  
I don’t think he’s really used to drinking, so maybe he’ll learn. If we’re outside, we don’t care, let him puke if he wants to.  
He hits on the chicks when he’s wasted, it’s really funny. He totally sucks at it. It doesn’t help that he actually puked on one once, they all try to avoid talking to him now. She threw a huge fit when that happened, we had to spray her off with the hose. She didn’t like that very much either, since we kinda turned her into a wet t-shirt contest in the process. But she was wearing a bra, so it wasn’t as cool as it could have been.  
I just leave Toki where he is on the lawn until it’s time to go home. That’s the only good thing, he’ll usually get up and walk after a little bit, if you point him.  
It would really suck if I had to carry his ass.

Will tells us that some cousin of his is selling an old Squire really cheap, he though Toki might be interested. Apparently it’s pretty much crap, the guitar store wouldn’t even take it as a trade in. But Toki wants it anyway, so we head over to check it out.  
It’s a chipped black Squire Strat, and I don’t know enough about guitars to tell anything else about it. Toki looks it over from a bunch of different angles, it seems to pass.  
He spots a tiny off-brand practice amp, and gets the guy to throw it into the deal, and we go home.  
I follow him to his room, curious. He doesn’t really seem to like that.  
“Oh come one man, I just wanna hear you play.”  
He just shakes his head, looking at me stubbornly.  
“You know I’m, like, gonna be able to hear you through the wall anyway. Are you any good?”  
He sighs. “I uses to be really good, really fast, but probablies not anymore.” He gives his hand a dirty look, like it’s betrayed him or something.  
I lean against the door frame, waiting. He realizes I’m not going anywhere, so he finally just goes ahead and plays.

I’m impressed, it sounds pretty good to me. He’s probably as good as Dave, somewhere around there. “Hey, that’s pretty good.”  
“Noes it’s not, stupid fingers! Stupid slow fingers!”  
“Huh. That didn’t sound, like, slow. To me.”  
“I uses to be at least twice this fast, this sucks! Whys ams I even trying?”  
“Hey man. It’ll come back, won’t it? Eventually? I mean, you’re good right now. And how long ago did yo hurt your fingers anyway?”  
“I don’t knows, maybes it will. And it happens two months before I gets here.”  
For someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in months and had a hand injury, he’s really good. I’m surprised. “Well, in my next band, you can be my guitarist.”  
“Nathan, I suck now. Yous can do better.”  
“Well I want you.” I’m feeling strangely generous. “Hey, I’ve got a bottle hidden, wanna get drunk?”  
That seems to perk him up a little. “Okays.”  
I go and get it, and we sit on his floor, listening to the radio and passing it back and forth, drinking.  
He doesn’t try to play anymore, but keeps looking at the guitar in a way I can’t understand.

We’re pretty drunk, so I decide to ask something I’ve been wondering about ever since I saw them. Alcohol, you know, makes you talk. About stuff you wouldn’t normally bring up.  
“Hey, can I ask you something? About your scars?”  
“No.”  
That wasn’t really the answer I was expecting. “Uh, why not?”  
“Because I don’ts want to lies to you.”  
“So don’t lie.”  
He shakes his head. “I can’t talks about that. I won’t. So if you insists, I lies.”  
Now I’m _really_ curious. “Well, um, can I guess? Maybe?”  
He avoids the question. “Why do you even cares?”  
“Uh, I don’t know? Because it’s really brutal?”  
He looks away, drinking some more. He’s really wasted already.  
“If I tells you, does you promise to never say anything ever agains?”  
“Okay. Yeah.” I take the bottle back, if I’m going to get a story, I don’t want him passing out halfway through it. “The scars?”  
“My father. He tells me he has to beat the devil outs of me, that it’s onlies to save me. So I tries to be goods, I tries to not give him any reasons. For a long times this works.  
Then one day I’s not careful enough, he finds my guitar. He tells me to play. I does it, thinking maybe he might be prouds.  
I’s wrong. He makes me puts my hand on the block, and swings my guitar like an ax. He break my fingers. Then he take the ax, and destroys my guitar. He tells me that now I can’ts play devil music, nows I’s safe. But he’s got to beats the devil back out anyways.”  
I’d never expected a story like that. I had no idea what to even say. But I’m spared having to even try, as he conveniently passes out.  
I leave his room.

There’s something I’ve been wondering about for a long time, so I just decide to ask him one time when we were alone. “Hey Toki, are you gay or something?”  
He frowns at that. “What’s gay? Happy?”  
“No, I mean do you want to fuck guys? Have sex with guys?”  
He looks really surprised. “No! Besides, I likes the goils, they just doesn’t ever like me.”  
“Um, Toki? Are you a virgin?”  
“What the fucks you think? The whole towns I comes from knows my parents, no goils would come near me. They thinks I’s a freak.”  
“We gotta fix that.”  
“Oh, no thanks, you’s not my type.”  
“What? No! I meant we gotta get you laid. With a girl.”  
He looks hopeful, but kinda terrified too. “But Nathan, I don’ts even know what to does with the goil!”  
“Well, I mean, you jack off, right? It’s kinda like that, except you use the girl instead of your hand.”  
“Touchings yourself is bads.”  
“Huh. No it’s not.”  
“Yes it is, if you touches it like that, you’s go to hell.”  
See, this is why religion is a bad thing. “Well, I do it all the time, and I don’t care if I got to hell. That would be brutal. Seriously, you should, you know, practice. You can even borrow my magazines, as long as you don’t mess them up.”  
“Magazines?”  
Was this guy raised in a cave? I go to my room and grab a few off the top of the stack I keep in my closet, bringing them back. “Here, look.” I flip one open to the centerfold, he covers his eyes. “Dude, seriously. Get over that shit.” He looks then, fascinated. I guess he’s never even seen a naked woman before. “Oh uh, there’s some hand lotion in the bathroom. It makes it easier.”  
I leave him, he’ll figure it all out.

We’re still working for Dan, at whatever site he’s on. I found out that he’s a pothead, I bet Dad doesn’t know about that. Yeah, I caught him during lunch break. I mean, I wasn’t trying to, I just wanted to ask him something. And he was smoking a joint. Of course I’ve smoked weed before, but this is my Dad’s friend, so it’s really weird.  
He acts embarrassed that I caught him, then holds it out invitingly. I’m not a huge fan of weed. It’s okay and all, but I’d usually rather just drink. But what the hell. I wave to Toki, calling him over. I wonder if he’s ever smoked before?  
We sit in the shade with Dan. Toki’s not reacting to the smell, so I don’t think he knows what it is. Maybe they don’t have weed in Norway.  
Dan passes it to me. “Hey Nate, don’t tell your dad, okay? We’re quitting early today anyhow.”  
I nod agreeably and inhale. Holding my breath, I pass it to Toki who looks confused. He takes it though, and copies me, trying not to cough.  
A couple more times around, and we’re pretty high. Dan gets up and heads home or whatever, but we just stay there, lounging on the grass in the shade. The leaves are so beautiful, moving in the breeze. 

Eventually, we get up. Maybe it hasn’t been long at all, I don’t know, weed totally fucks up my sense of time. Can’t go home yet, still too high, so we walk.  
It’s good shit, everything is bright and funny. We end up at the park, for some reason we just tend to gravitate there. There’s nobody there now, and that’s good because suddenly I just want to swing. I know, I know, I’m way too old for playground equipment, but right now I need to fly through the air.  
I feel less silly when Toki joins me, and we swing, higher and higher. I close my eyes and I am flying. The chains jerk at the top of every arc.  
Eventually though, I gotta stop. And everybody knows that the only REAL way to get off a swing is to let go at the top. I sail away, landing on my feet, but losing my balance and falling over. I look up in time to see Toki sail over and roll to a stop beside me, laughing.  
“Wowee Nathan, that was fun!”  
“Yeah. Yeah it was.”  
We get up and wander toward home. “So you’ve really never smoked weed before? Not even with your old friends?”  
“No. Besides, I didn’t haves any friends, everybodies thinks I’s too weird.”  
“Wow. That really sucks. Sorry, man.”  
He just shrugs. “It’s okays, they doesn’t matter anymore.”

  
Dad is getting on my ass a lot lately, I hate that shit. Going on about how I need to “quit fucking around with music and grow up,” as he puts it. No. This is what I want to do, and all the rest is just to get by. He’s such an asshole.  
“For god’s sake Nathan, at least get a damn haircut! Or I’ll make you!”  
“NO!”  
Mom steps between us, she gets upset when we argue, always trying to keep the peace. “Oscar, it’s just hair, he’s only going through a phase. Please calm down.”  
“Fine. But YOU need to get your shit together. And I don’t like you hanging around that Dave so much, he’s too old for you. He’ll just get you in trouble.”  
“Dave’s my guitarist, I kinda have to hang around him.” Besides, YOUR friend got me high, so there. But I can tell that Mom has defused him once again, and it’s over for now. Someday, neither of us will back down, and I don’t really know what will happen then.  
I notice that Toki has left the room. He always tends to disappear whenever we fight, I guess it bothers him. 

We played at a different club tonight, downtown. We’re getting a following.  
Will wants to smoke, so we wander out. I like to walk around at night. This isn’t the greatest part of town, but we feel invincible right now.  
A couple guys step out of an alley, and I suddenly realize we’ve walked a couple blocks. It’s pretty dark here.  
People don’t usually mess with me, but for some reason, these do.  
“Hey, they’re in that band that played earlier. They’ll have money!”  
We’re getting mugged by these losers? Seriously? “Will, run! Don’t let them catch you.”  
He listens, knowing he’d never stand a chance. I’m better at tackling than hitting, but I’m not going anywhere.  
I suck at waiting, so I tackle the biggest one, we go down. It gets to be a bit of a blur, can’t think. I wind up pinned by a very pissed off and bleeding guy, while his buddy, unfortunately still on his feet, looms over us. Losing SUCKS!  
“You gonna give us that money now, or do we have to take it?” He hits me again, the bastard.  
Then there’s a thud, and his buddy drops beside me. And the guy holding me down is gone.  
I get up, there’s blood in my eyes, making it hard to see, have to squint. I don’t even know if it’s his blood or mine.  
Toki? Shit, it’s Toki, beating the crap out of that dude.  
Will is back, calling a warning, “Nathan! 5-O!”  
Shit, cops, gotta get out of here. “Toki! Toki, stop, we gotta go!”  
He won’t stop.  
Cheap shot, but we’re running out of time. “Come with me NOW or they’ll deport you and send you home!”  
He hears that and stops, dropping the guy, and follows me as I run off into the night.  
We get away.

Toki comes to my room one night, acting all weird again.  
He sits beside me but won’t look at me. I decide to just wait.  
Eventually, he speaks. “Nathan? Can I asks you to do something for me? That you might nots like?”  
This is really weird. He never says anything personal, and never asks for anything. Well, I mean, he did tell me that stuff when he was really drunk, but I don’t think he even remembers it. But I promised not to mention it again, and I won’t. He’s still not looking at me. “Um, like what?”  
He’s silent for a while again, I wait.  
“I wants you to breaks my finger. It didn’t heals right, and it’s never goings to be goods enough like it is. I wants to be able to really play again.”  
Oh fuck, I wasn’t expecting this. He holds his left hand out to me, and I look at it. Yes, his ring finger is pretty crooked.  
“I don’t know if I can do that. Besides, what if I like, just make it worse?”  
He shrugs. “It’s no goods like this, so it can’ts really be any worse. Please?”  
“No man, I’m sorry.”

He’s not going to let it go that easy. “Nathan, if you doesn’t help me, I’s going to do it myself with a fucking hammers.”  
Is he serious? I think he’s serious. No, he can’t do that, he’ll just smash it! Maybe he doesn’t care? “Fuck, Toki, you can’t go that! No!”  
“Then you does it. Just pretends you is breakings a stick.”  
Oh hell, I’m gonna do it. And he knows it. “Do you have any idea how much this’s gonna hurt?”  
He just nods. Oh right, this will probably be nothing compared to having ALL your fingers broken. At once. I take his hand and he turns his head away.  
A finger is such a small thing. Not something you usually examine too closely. I feel for the edges, deciding where to grip. Pretend it’s a stick...  
Nothing happens. Fingers are a lot tougher than you think. I apply more force, it takes a lot.  
Then there is a sickening little snap, and the bone is loose in my grasp. _Oh fuck_.  
He never moved, never made a sound.  
I release his hand, I’m a little shaky now, and he faces me again.  
“Thanks Nathan.”  
“You um, have to put something on that. You know?” I can’t help but look at his swelling, badly bruised finger.  
He just nods. “I gots one of those metal finger sticks in my room, I was goings to do this whether you helps me or not.”  
He leaves. Fuck, he didn’t even cry.

I ask Janey to find a friend who will fuck Toki, I was serious about getting him laid. He’s really an okay guy once you get to know him, we’re getting to be pretty good friends now. He can still be really annoying sometimes, but I mean, I understand why. She suggests Beth, that’s good, she kinda owes me a favor anyway. I call her, and she agrees to do it. Him.  
My parents are gonna be out, so I arrange for her to come over. Toki’s kinda scared or something, but I’m not taking no for an answer.  
When she gets there, I talk to her first. “Look, just do it, okay? He needs this.”  
She nods agreeably. She’s kinda a slut really, but she’s never had a virgin before, it’s a new challenge.  
“His parents like, really messed up his head. Or something. So he’s kinda freaked out about all this. Just don’t let him stop you, if he even tries to. I don’t think he will though.”  
I lead her to his room and let her in. She has her shirt off before I can even close the door, and no bra in sight. Yeah, she shouldn’t have any problems. I go watch tv.  
A couple hours later, she stops in to say goodbye, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, don’t kiss me, I know where your mouth has been! But you know, thanks for doing this.”  
She smiles. “Oh, it was totally worth it, wow!” I laugh and she leaves.  
Toki comes in and sits on the couch next to me, looking tired. “You know whats? I don’ts care about hell anymore. Fuck my parents and everything they tells me. Their god cans kiss my ass.”  
I just laugh. “Hell yeah Toki, way to go.”


	2. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are changing. Skwisgaar and Pickles will show up.  
> Still in Nathan’s POV.  
> Warnings: We still have OC’s

We’re getting tired of Dave acting like he’s in charge of the band. I mean, yeah, it’s his house and all, but it’s OUR band. And Todd’s always been annoying, but he’s even worse now. Both of them treat Toki like he’s their own personal guitar tech, he doesn’t seem to mind, but I do.   
When Dave tries to make Toki clean his house though, I get in his face. He may be older, but I’m bigger. He’s not that stupid, he starts saying how he’d only been joking, playing around. Bullshit, but whatever. We’re arguing more often now.  
I talk with Will about it, he likes Toki too. If we didn’t have a small following already, we’d just lose them and start our own band. I could probably book us with my fake ID. Toki could be our guitarist, his finger’s almost healed, it looks straight now. He’s not playing again yet, but I know he will soon. And he wants a band.  
But it’s easier to just stay where we are, drink more, and play our shows.

Summer eventually ends, school starts up again. We’re still playing about once a month, sometimes more. When I have free time anymore, I mostly just hang out with Toki and Will.  
The chicks are interested in Toki again, Beth must have said something. He’s handling it much better this time, even takes one of them out every now and then. Just for sex I think, but that seems to be all they really want from him anyway.   
Toki hasn’t been able to find a band yet, and Dave won’t let him play with us. I think he’s playing a lot faster now, but he still says he sucks. I don’t think he’s really looking too hard, but I know he’s practicing. Even when he doesn’t use the amp, I can sometimes hear him.  
He’s good enough for me, and I tell him so. “If we lose Dave, or I get in another band, you’re my guitarist, okay?” He just nods.  
School sucks. But I’m really good at football, so I know they’ll give me the grades. I’m thinking about quitting anyway, I just don’t see the point to all this.  
Toki, of course, is still making excellent grades.

Then that all changes.   
Toki turned eighteen, and just quit caring or something. Now that he’s legal, and they can’t make him go home anymore. He quits studying much. He quits ass kissing. He still does what needs done, but that whole desperation about him is gone now.  
Still, he graduated. Mom is so proud, Toki doesn’t even seem to care. He wouldn’t let them convince him to make the walk though, he wanted nothing to do with the gown and all that crap. I don’t blame him, those things are hideous. Well, Mom might as well get her graduation fix out on him, I really can’t see hanging in here for two more years.   
Not much changes, we’re still playing regularly and all that. More people are starting to follow us, it’s awesome. Dave’s becoming a real asshole, but he knows he needs me, so I can keep him from getting out of hand. And keep him from bitching at Will too much, too.  
Finally, I turned sixteen, but big fucking deal. My ID says I’m nineteen now, that works for me. I’ve always looked older than I am anyway.

Dave gets us hooked up to open for Fuckface Academy. I’ve heard of them, they’re supposed to be really heavy.   
We’re pretty nervous as we set up, this is an actual touring band, this will be a different crowd then we’ve grown used to. We’re gonna have to be extra heavy tonight.   
We go on first, since we’re just the local band. So far, anyway. I throw everything I have into it, trying to up our brutality factor.  
Fortunately, the crown seems to like us.  
The second band, we don’t really pay much attention to.   
But oh man, Fuckface Academy rocks! They have this blond guitarist, he’s incredibly fucking fast. I’ve never seen anyone play like that. Toki is watching him too, his expression unreadable. When he said he used to be really fast, is this what he meant? That seems impossible, how do anybody’s fingers move that fast? But that guy’s fucking awesome. We stay until the very end, then hang around some more. This must be kinda what it feels like when you finally make it.

I’m really surprised when that blond guy comes up to me. “You is Nathans, right? I is puttings a new band togethers. I likes your sound, I wants you in it.”  
“Uh, well I have a band. Already. And I promised my friend here that he can be my guitarist next time.”  
Fuck, why did I promise Toki? This guy is _really_ good.  
“I hopes you keeps the receipt.”  
And an asshole. “You uh, already have a band too.”  
“Ja, but I won’ts stay with dem, I never does. I can’ts find a band with de sounds I ams looking for, so I will makes my owns. And I wants you.”  
It’s a big risk. This guy is great, but he might not stick around anyway. And we’re finally getting a good following now. If I quit, I might end up with nothing. “Um, how about we try it? I’m not quitting my band yet, but I’ll uh, play with you too. And you have to take Toki if you want me.” I’ll try to get Will in later, but that should be easy.  
He considers it, still ignoring Toki. Like he’s just insignificant or something.   
“I never works with anothers guitarist. Is he evens any goods?”  
Compared to you? No. “Yeah.”  
“Okays, I tries it.” He shrugs, and hands me a scrap of paper. “Here’s de number where I is stayings, you calls me tomorrow.”  
He walks away then, I study the paper. What the hell is this guy’s name? It’s all weird, I can’t even guess how to pronounce it. “Hey Toki, you got any idea how to say this? I mean, he talks kinda like you.”  
He glances at it.  
“You says it like Swiss-gar. He’s Swedish, I’s should have knowns.”  
“So you can, like, speak his language?”  
“No, but it’s prettys close, I can probablies understand it.”

Mom wakes me up early the next morning, crying. I don’t know why, but it can’t be good.  
“Nathan, honey... there was an accident last night.”  
I’m awake now. Who’s dead? If nobody's dead, she’s have said it already. Who?  
Honey, last night... Will’s dead. A car came across the median and hit him head on. They say he didn’t suffer.”  
She tries to hold me, I don’t want held. I pull away and throw some clothes on, I just wanna get out of the house.  
I don’t go too far just to the little nearby park. Toki finds me there, she must have told him too. He doesn’t say anything, he seems to know that all that comforting stuff is bullshit. He just sits beside me.  
After a while, we get up and wander around. I put my hands in my pockets and feel something. Oh, I grabbed the jeans I had on last night, it’s that guy Skwisgaar’s number.   
Well, I might as well call him. I don’t even want to try to replace Will, and there’s nothing else left to keep me here any longer.  
We head back to the house, Toki still silent. I avoid Mom, don’t want to deal with her right now, and make the call. He gives me directions and we leave again.

We get to the hotel and look for the room number, it seems to be in the back.   
An older woman answers my knock. Oh crap, I wrote the number down wrong, didn’t I? As I start to apologize, he joins her at the door.  
“Goods, you ams here. Agnes, goes away for a whiles, we’s going to has a meetings.” She kisses him and walks out. Ugh, really? “Well, comes in.”  
He sits on one bed, we sit on the other. “So, uh, why do you want me anyway?”  
“I’s been in lots of bands, pretty much every band dere is. None of dem has de sounds I’s looking for, and dey won’ts make changes. So I quits, I will makes my own bands, with de sounds dat I want.”  
“How do I know you won’t just quit? Again?”  
“Because I knows what I ams looking for. And you is one of dem.” He looks so sincere.  
“Okay. But you gotta take Toki too. That’s my deal.” We both need a way out of here.  
“I gots to hear him plays den.” He grabs his nearby guitar, and hands it to Toki. When he takes, it Skwisgaar notices something else and grabs his wrist. “Dese fingers has been broken, dey probablise not any goods anymore. How long ago did dis happen?”  
“A little overs a year. And you’s right, they’re not so good anymore.”  
“Toki, just play!”   
He shrugs and does just that. He _has_ gotten a lot faster, but he still doesn’t look happy with his playing. Skwisgaar watched him closely.  
“Dat’s not so terribles actuallies. Could yous be happy playings de rhythm? Because I’s de lead.”  
He nods.   
We are in a new band then. Part of one anyway.

We all talk for a while longer. We learn that Skwisgaar is indeed from Sweden, and has been in bands all over Europe, and tons of bands here too. He finds it mildly interesting that Toki is from Norway. Then the conversation turns.  
“Nathans, how old is you anyways?”  
“My ID says I’m nineteen, that’s good enough.”  
“But how olds is you reallies?”  
Crap, he seems serious about this. Why does he even care? “Sixteen. But Toki’s really eighteen.”  
“I cans be living with dat. So if we goes away, you is good?”  
“Yeah.” Fuck yeah.  
We head home. Fuck, I miss Will already. Apparently, so does Toki.  
“Nathan, I miss Will. Why’s he have to dies? Is it because he’s my friend toos?”  
“Huh? That’s pretty messed up, Toki. It was just, you know, bad luck. Bad driver. But it fucking _sucks_!”  
“He was your friend a longs time?”  
“Um, yeah. He was like, my best friend. Since we were little.”  
“I’s sorries.”  
“Me too, Toki, me too.”  
We get home and drink the last of my stash in my room. 

Dave calls me the next day. “Hey Nathan, get your ass over here, we’re having tryouts. We’ve gotta find somebody fast so we can still play this weekend.”  
Does he really think I _care_ about playing this weekend? “Fuck you Dave. Audition singers while you’re at it, because I’m out.” I hang up on his protests.  
The day gets worse.   
At dinner, Dad brings up about how now that Toki has finished school, he should go home.   
I don’t even give Toki a chance to speak. “Hell no, Dad! If you throw him out, I’m leaving too.”  
Mom gets upset when we fight, always trying to keep the peace. It usually doesn’t work. “But Nathan, you’re only sixteen, you’re still in school! You can’t move out!”  
Dad disagrees. “Yes he can. I’m sick of your attitude! You’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why should I spend my money supporting you another for two years? Go ahead and get out, if that’s what you want!”  
“Oscar, please! You can’t be serious! Nathan, you can’t go!”  
We both ignore her. This is it, and I know it. I can back down like he expects me to, or I can leave. Toki is silent, watching, staying out of this. “Fine, I’ll leave. You don’t have to waste your precious money on me. Anymore.”  
I get up and head for the door, he yells after me. “You have three days to get your crap out of my house!” I can hear Mom crying.   
Toki gets up and follows me out, and we walk.

Great, where are we going to go? We can probably rent someplace, I guess. Together we probably have enough money left. But not instantly, and not tonight.  
We end up at the park again, and sit on a picnic table for a while.”Damn, Toki, I’m sorry. He probably wouldn’t have really kicked you out. I don’t think.”  
“It’s okays Nathan. But what’s we going to do?”  
Who do I know with a place? Dave. Yeah, that’s not gonna work. “Um, I guess I’ve gotta call Skwisgaar.”  
We wander down to the corner store to use their payphone, I have his number in my wallet now. Luckily, he’s in his room. “Hey Skwisgaar? This is Nathan. Look, we have a problem. My parents, um, kicked us out. And we don’t have anywhere to go.”  
“I’s stayings here for two weeks. Dere is a drummer heading dis ways I wants to see, easier to waits for him to gets here dan to chases him arounds. I gots two beds, you comes here?”  
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” I hang up, and turn to Toki. “He says he’s waiting for someone, we can stay with him for now. If we want.”  
He looks like he can’t think of anything else either. “Okays.” He knows it’s really only me that Skwisgaar wants, and that bothers him, but there’s nothing I can do about that. What choice do we have?

Skwisgaar lets us in. “You has no bags”  
“Uh, no. We have like, three days to get our stuff out. We just kinda... left.”  
He points. “Yous can has dat bed. You wants beer?”  
Hey, he’s got a mini fridge. We grab some beers and sit down. “So uh, you have a drummer in mind?”  
“Ja. I talks to somebody who sees him play, now I wants to hears him. You’s drummer didn’ts suck, I wants to tries him too if yous okay with dat.”  
Oh shit. He doesn’t know, of course he doesn’t know, but I’m not ready to talk about Will yet. Fortunately, Toki bails me out. “You can’ts, he dies.”  
Skwisgaar looks shocked, he had no idea. “I’s sorries, I knows it’s hard to lose someones yous cares about.”  
I finish my beer and grab another. Fuck all this. “Hey. You’re serious about all this? You’re gonna take us with you, for this new band of yours? Or are you just fucking with me? I wanna know now.”  
“Ja I’s serious. I knows what I wants, and I wants you.” He sees my glance. “And I takes him too, if dats your price.”  
“It is.”  
“Fine, we goods den. Yous goings to sleep togethers?”  
Oh. “Uh, no. I’ll like, sleep on the floor.”  
Toki protests, “No Nathan, I’ll sleeps on the floor.”  
I just grin at him. “We’ll take turns, or something.”

The next day, we decide that if we’re really leaving soon, there’s no point in trying to rent a place. Instead, we rent a room in the motel, they have a weekly rate. Now we have our own beds.  
We move our stuff, we don’t really have much. Mostly just clothes, Toki’s guitar, and my notebooks.  
It’s kinda exciting, our own place, no parents. Even if it is just a crappy motel room.   
We’re gonna run out of money fast though, so I call Dan and ask if he needs any help, temporarily. He does. So we’re good, now we can pay for our room, and food. There’s no kitchen here, but neither of us can cook anyway, so it really doesn’t matter.  
Skwisgaar comes over to talk music, and immediately starts insulting Toki’s choice in guitars.  
“What de fucks is dat thing? You can’ts be playing dat.”  
Toki knows it’s a crappy guitar, but it’s _his_ crappy guitar. “It’s not that bads, and I’s gets another one when I cans afford it!”  
“No, you is not playings dat with me. You will has to plays one of mine den. I will gets us a place to be practicing.”  
He glances out the window, then leaves. Watching, we see him greet... his grandma? No, nobody kisses their grandma like that. What’s with this guy and the old ladies?

We go to work in the morning. I don’t know what Skwisgaar does, he probably sleeps.  
Dan still wants us doing mostly grunt work, but that’s fine. I have too much on my mind to pay attention, so I’d probably just screw shit up. Who is this drummer we’re waiting for? Where are we going to practice? I know we can’t play in the motel rooms. And where are we going to go when we leave?  
But thinking does no good, because I have no answers. The day passes slowly.  
Skwisgaar comes out to meet us when we get back. I mean home.   
“Follows me, I has a place to play now.”  
We’re all hot and sweaty, but fuck it. We follow him.   
To the mini storage across the street. He’s rented a unit on the side facing the highway. It catches some breeze, so it’s not too bad.   
He hands Toki a guitar. “Here, you cans play dis one. I buys it a whiles back, but I decides I doesn’t likes de shape. If you likes it, yous can buys your own somedays.”  
Toki examines it, clearly impressed. It’s a Flying V, yeah I know that much, and there’s not a chip on it.   
“Uh, what do you want me to do?”  
“Yous just watch right nows, we gots to find out if this can be workings.”  
Okay, so this one is just Toki and Skwisgaar. I pick a spot against the wall and sit, out of the sun but still in the breeze.

Toki puts on the guitar like he afraid to even play something that nice. I can tell he likes it though. He has to shorten the strap some, he’s just not as tall as Skwisgaar. _I’m_ not even that tall, but I don’t think I’m done growing yet.  
Skwisgaar plays something really fast, I think he’s just showing off. Or maybe that’s just how he plays, I don’t know. But it’s impressive.  
Toki just frowns at him. “Hows you want to does this?”  
“Can yous copies what I does? I needs to see what yous can do.”  
Toki just nods, fingers ready. I don’t know if he can do it or not, but he’s gonna try.  
And so they play. It sounds cool and it looks cool, and I can’t play guitar for shit, so I’m really not understanding the finer points here. They play a lot.  
Toki’s really fast now. Not as fast as Skwisgaar, but I’m still surprised.  
Finally they stop, and put down the guitars.  
Toki is waiting. Skwisgaar looks him over. “You needs lots of work, but dat didn’t totalies suck. You is faster dan most peoples. Nathans, I works with yous tomorrow, okays?”  
“Okay.” This looks like it’s gonna work out. Good. We lock up and head back to the motel.  
We’re going to have to buy some real food, all we have for dinner is beef jerky and chips. Lots of it, but still.  
Skwisgaar probably has an old lady.

We’re pretty busy. Working for Dan, working with Skwisgaar. Having to buy things, like food. It really sucks having to shop.   
Skwisgaar likes the songs I have so far. We work together well, I sing something and he just plays. And it turns out _awesome_. And then when we’ve got it down, he shows Toki what he wants him to play.  
Toki really loves that guitar he’s playing. He told me he’s gonna buy his own, as soon as we start really making money. Skwisgaar will let him keep using it until then, he doesn’t really like that one anyway.  
One day when we’re practicing, it occurs to me that we don’t have a name. I mean, I should have thought about that earlier, but... I just didn’t. So I ask him about it. “Hey Skwisgaar? Do we have a name?”  
“We doesn’t needs a name yet. We tinks of somethings when we gets de rest of de band.”  
“Um, okay. But it would be cool to have a name.”  
“Ya Skwisgaar, we needs a name, or nobody will knows who we are.”  
“Pfft. We gets one later, don’ts be worrying abouts it.”   
There’s so much potential here. Just a couple more members, and we can, like, take over the world or something. That’s how I feel anyway. Invincible.

Skwisgaar has a plan. I’m the only one of us with a driver’s licence, but he wants to see if we can get me another one based on my fake ID. A real one, so we don’t have to worry about my age anymore.   
I have no idea why he doesn’t have a licence, but I know that Toki just never took the test. But he’s legal already, so it doesn’t matter. And it’s not like any of us have a car.  
Anyway, he’s been scoping out the DMV employees, and has this one older lady picked out. So we go down there on her shift. He flirts the whole time, distracting her, making sure she doesn’t examine my old ID too closely. She’s flattered, blushing at his attention. She probably hasn’t had _anyone_ hit on her in twenty fucking years.   
It works, and I am now legally nineteen. And Skwisgaar has her phone number.  
We get back and I show Toki. “Look, now you’re the youngest one in this band!”  
“No I’s not!”  
“Yeah, well legally, I’m older than you now.”  
Skwisgaar stands up all straight and serious like, and tells us we’re both children anyway.  
I catch Toki’s eye, and we jump him, pushing him down on the bed and tickling him. Wanna call us kids? Fine, we’ll act like kids. He’s trying to fend us off, but he’s laughing. “Stops, stops, I’s not ticklish!”   
We don’t believe him.   
He’s usually so serious, it’s fun to make him laugh like this.  
Then he decides to fight back, and we learn just how long his arms are. It’s a tickle war. None of us are very ticklish, but it’s still a lot of fun to try. Finally, he calls it off. “Okays, enough! I gots a date, I can’ts be all messed up like dis.”  
We let him go. “Pffts, I gots a crazy bands.” But he’s smiling.

It’s the weekend, we’re sleeping in. There’s a knock at the door. It’s just Skwisgaar, I know his knock. Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll go away? I look over at Toki, he’s got his head under the blanket. Pretending to be asleep, but I know he’s not. No help there.   
More knocking, he’s not going away.  
I give up, and let him in.  
“Wakes up you guys. I finds us a bass player, I gets him last night. He ams meetings us to practice in halfs an hours. Gets up.”  
This early? Oh, I guess it’s not that early after all. I swat the lump on the other bed. “Toki get up, I know you’re awake.”  
He groans, but crawls out, glaring at the window like it’s the sun’s fault for shining.  
We get there on time, or close enough anyway. They’re already there. Hey, I know this guy, he’s played some of the same shows we did. Jeff, that’s his name. He’s older, and he’s played in a bunch of local bands that I know of. He recognizes me too.  
“Oh hey Nate, how’s it going?”  
“Uh, pretty good. So you quit-“ Fuck, I can’t remember the name of his last band.  
He doesn’t care. “Yeah, yeah. They weren’t going anywhere. I’m getting old, Kid, if I’m gonna make it, it needs to be soon.”  
I don’t much like being called a kid, but Jeff’s really old, like maybe even forty, so I let it go. He’s a pretty solid bass player, and he has a van. I wonder if Skwisgaar picked him for his talent or his car?

It weird. With Jeff playing too, Skwisgaar changes. He starts picking about every little thing, and giving Toki hell. So far Toki’s taking it pretty well, but I know he doesn’t like it. I’d step in, but they’re going to have to work this out eventually. I just hope Toki doesn’t end up killing him.  
Guitarists are like cats. No really, they are. If you put a couple cats together, they’ll be tearing the hell out of each other one day, and best friends the next. You never know which it’s gonna be. And they like, hiss a lot, at each other. All the time.   
And this happens forever. Good thing I’m a cat person.  
I’m really not impressed with Jeff though, it sounds like he’s playing the same boring bass line in every song. And Skwisgaar doesn’t pick on _him_ often. It’s like he’s unimportant, or beneath his notice or something.   
The only time I’ve seen Skwisgaar turn on him is when Jeff mistook age for rank and tried to tell him how something should be played. Skwisgaar, who’s probably ten or fifteen years younger, had him backed against the wall by the time he was through with him.   
We might need a new bass player.   
I don’t really care.  
It’s all starting to come together though, even though Skwisgaar keeps telling us it sounds like dildos. I really don’t think he knows what that word means. Fortunately neither does Toki, because they would probably really piss him off.  
I think it’s kinda funny though.

They don’t need me one day, so I go to the store while they play. Jeff lets me take his van. We need more ready-to-eat food. We’ve pretty much ate all of ours. Again.  
I run into Todd. They’re not playing again yet either, but he says they will soon.  
“Yeah man, Dave’s found a singer and a drummer, and he says we’re gonna be better than ever!”  
“Uh, good for you. Anybody I know?”  
He shrugs. “Can’t tell ya man, Dave’s keeping it a secret for some reason. I don’t even know who they are, except they’re coming from out of town.”  
Funny, we’re waiting for someone from out of town too. “We still need a drummer.”  
“Oh yeah? Who’s playing bass?”   
“Uh, Jeff. You know Jeff?” He nods. “He’s doing pretty good, I guess. Our guitarist is insanely fast though. And Toki’s way better than you’d expect.”  
That surprised him. “You’re letting _Toki_ play with you now? You used to have standards, man.”  
“Hey! He’s really good, better than Dave.”  
I still don’t like this guy very much. Apparently, it’s still mutual. “No, Dave’s the best! We’re going to be the biggest band ever, you’ll see. Just wait, you’ll be sorry you ever left us!”  
I just walk away. Whatever Todd, have a nice life. Or not.  
I get the rest of the shit we need, and head back.

Skwisgaar has gotten word from wherever the fuck he gets his information. The drummer he’s waiting for should be here this weekend. I hope he doesn’t suck, a good drummer is important. Especially since our bassist is kinda weak.  
We haven’t even tried out any drummers yet. We probably should have tried at least a couple. But Skwisgaar’s sure he wants this guy, whoever he is. Yeah, he won’t even tell us. I tried asking, of course.   
“Oh come on, who is he?”  
“I’s not telling yous. Stops askings.”  
“Well uh, just tell me his name?”  
He shrugs. “I don’ts even knows his name. Nots his reals one anyways.”  
This isn’t easy. “Have you ever, at least, heard him play? Actually?”  
“No, nots de drums. Now stops with de dildos questions, we’s gots to practice.”  
I give up. I hope he’ll be good, whoever he is.  
I’m kinda amazed that Toki and Skwisgaar haven’t killed each other yet. I mean, that’s a good thing. I’m starting to think they just like to fight, since they always get over it so fast. You’d think they were brothers or something. Or married. One of those things anyway, where you fight all the time.  
I can’t wait for this weekend.

This is it, tonight we’re gonna go see this drummer we’ve been waiting for. Skwisgaar got it wrong, he’s not coming here, but it’s not too far away. Jeff picks us all up and we head to the club.  
I’ve never been to this bar before, we never got to play here because they wouldn’t allow minors, not even in the bands.   
The band is good, but I’m not that impressed with they’re drummer. I wonder why Skwisgaar is? I wander outside, and run into a familiar face. “Dave! What’re you doing here man?” Oops, I seem to have interrupted something. Dave is taking to a short guy with long red hair. Or arguing with, really.   
“Hey Nate.” He turns back to the other guy. “Just say you’ll do it?”  
“Dude, I told ya I’m naught gonna be in yer band!”   
The guy’s got a funny accent. Is one of the people Todd referred to? He must be. Interesting.  
“You don’t understand, I’m a HUGE fan of yours, you’re so great, it’ll be great!”  
“I’m retired, ya douchebag! Leave me tha fuck alone!”  
“NO! I’m not going anywhere until you agree to play for me!”  
Okay, that’s enough. I guess this is what Dave turns into without me to keep him in line. I step between them. “Dave, quit it! You’re being an asshole!”  
“Fuck you Nate, I saw him first! You can’t have him, he’s mine!”  
Seriously, what the hell is his problem? Why would I _want_ this guy anyway? Hell, why am I even protecting him? And is Dave really about to fight me over this?  
Then he steps back, backing down. Oh, Toki. He’s come up to stand beside me. Funny, Dave’s more scared of him than of me. Well, he did see what Toki did to that guy a while back.  
“Fuck you both! Nathan, I’m getting you kicked out, I know you’re not old enough to be here!” He stalks back inside.

“So, was thet guy a friend of yers?” The red haired guy seems friendly enough when someone’s not getting in his face.  
I shrug. “He’s my old guitarist. But he’s an asshole. What did he mean about, like, being your fan?”  
He looks surprised. “Wait- You don’t know who I am? Rally?”  
I glance at Toki. No, he doesn’t know either. “Uh, sorry?”  
He just laughs. “Eh, it’s jest too funny. I’m Pickles. Yer Nathan?”  
“Yeah. And this is Toki.”  
He’s grinning at us. “Ya rally don’t know who I am? Yer naught jest fuckin’ with me?”  
There’s something familiar about him, but I just can’t place it.  
We’re interrupted by the manager, demanding to see my ID. Dave really did go running to them. I get it out, and he studies it very closely. Of course it passes. I’m glad Skwisgaar made me get this one, the old one would have never held up to that inspection.  
He hands it back. “I’m sorry, but we were told your ID was fake, so I had to examine it. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”  
We hear the band take a break, and Pickles jumps up. “I gatta go, it’s my turn now.”  
Oh wait, he plays? We follow along, curious.

He climbs up on the stage alone. Where’s his band?   
He sits behind the drum kit, and I suddenly realize that _this_ is who we’ve come to see, this is who Skwisgaar wants.  
He starts playing. It’s clear that he’s just doing this for fun, but he’s incredible. He doesn’t even bother with the usual showy stick tricks, he seems to know he doesn’t need them. Besides, he rarely quits using one long enough to throw it even if he wanted to.   
Most drummers who play that fast, it’s just noise. But he’s keeping a pattern.   
I see Dave, and move closer to him, curious. Yelling to be heard, I ask him who this guy is. He looks at me like I’m stupid, but answers anyway.  
“Pickles! You know, Snakes N Barrels?!”  
OH. No wonder Dave is so excited. He looks different than the photos I vaguely remember seeing. He’s just wearing normal clothes, no makeup, and a bandana on his head. But Pickles was the singer, right? So why’s he drumming?  
He plays a while longer, various rhythms, all of it good.   
Then he slips back offstage, and the band gets back up. I head the way he went, I wanna see Skwisgaar try to recruit this one.

He’s outside and looks like he’s just gonna walk away, but then Skwisgaar yells at him. “Heys Pickle! Stops, I gots to be talking to yous!”  
He stops and turns. “Oh, yer Skwisgaar, aren’t ya? I heard ya were sahmwhere ‘round here.”  
Skwisgaar loves it when people recognize him. “Ja, I’s been waiting for yous. I ams making the most brutals band of alls time, and I wants you to be de drummer.”  
“Well dude, thet’s rally flatterin’ an’ all, but I’m retired now. I jest do this fer fun.”  
Skwisgaar is going to reply, but Dave comes flying out of nowhere and knocks him flat. “Goddamn you fucking assholes, he’s mine! Pickles, come on! I’ll save you!”  
Pickles backs away. Security grabs Dave, throwing him out. Toki and Jeff are kneeling beside Skwisgaar, who looks like he’s probably just fine, so I go and talk to Pickles. “Hey. How about you just come practice with us? A couple times? See what you think?”  
He seemed really uncertain. “Dude, I jest don’t know. Too much crazy shit happens in bands.”  
The others get up and walk over to us. “Comes on Pickle, tries us, you won’ts be sorries.”  
He nods. “Alreet. I’ll come play with ya, _one time_. If ya can’t impress me, thet’s it, it’s over. Deal?”  
Skwisgaar smiles agreeably. “I can be livings with dat.”  
We give Pickles our room numbers and directions, and arrange to play with him tomorrow.

The next day, we’re waiting as Pickles sets up his drums. He doesn’t seem impressed at all with our makeshift jam room. I’m pretty sure that if it wasn’t for Skwisgaar, he wouldn’t even have agreed to come.  
Finally, he’s happy with it, and looks at us expectantly. We take out places.   
But he doesn’t know any of our songs? How’s he gonna play them? Why hasn’t Skwisgaar asked him or something? “Um hey man... how will you know what to play?”  
He just shrugs. “I’m jest thet good. Jest start, I’ll find my place and merge. I know what I’m doin’, don’t worry.”  
And so we start. Pickles joins in quickly, and the difference is amazing. And distracting. I gotta keep my shit together, we _need_ this guy, I have to impress him. I focus as hard as I can, become the music.  
We play everything we have.   
In the silence that follows, we all look at each other, amazed. That was like, really something. Pickles has gotta join us now, after that. Right?  
“Alreet guys, ya gat yerselves a drummer. But we gatta tawlk ‘bout sahm things.”

We all move to sit in the breeze, grabbing some beers from the cooler we brought. I wait. I’ve been letting Skwisgaar run this show, and he seems to be waiting on Pickles.  
“Okie, here’s tha thing. I’m naught stayin’ here. An’ I’m naught willin’ to do the dinky bar scene, I already did thet shit ten years ago. So are ya willin’ to move? Can ya?”  
That last one was directed at me and Toki, I know it. “Yeah. We can.”  
“Ja, I’s just stayings here while I waits for yous. Dis place means nothings to me.”  
We look at Jeff. “Well... I guess so. If you’re serious about us making it and all.”  
Pickles shook his head. “I’m gonna need a little more commitment than thet.”  
Come on Jeff! Don’t be an asshole. “Yeah, okay, I’m in. Let’s go.”  
“Alreet! Well look, I gotta head home, this truck’s a rental. But I’ll give ya all tha info, and ya jest show up as soon as ya can, okie?”  
“Ja okays Pickle, we will be seeings you soon.”  
I hand him one of my ever-present notebooks and he writes down his stuff. Then he loads his kit back up and leaves. Jeff takes off too, he has an apartment and shit like that to take care of.  
We go back to the motel, then head for the pool to cool off. Toki is still keeping his shirt on around Skwisgaar, I guess he’ll get over that eventually. He does change in front of me now, but I always pretend I don’t see anything. His newer scars are fading pretty good though. Eventually, you probably won’t even be able to really see them, unless you look close.  
We’re going to be leaving as soon as Jeff can be ready.  
I almost feel like I should say goodbye to my parents. Almost.

About a week later, we’re finally here. Pickles gave good directions, we never even got lost once. He’s told us we can live with him, that he’s got enough room. This is my new home, our new home. At least for now.  
Pickles comes out to greet us. “Com’on in, we’ll git yer stuff later.”  
He gives us a quick tour of the house, pointing out random things. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a nice enough house. It’s obvious that Pickles has never bothered to decorate it, but that’s fine.  
“Okie, I’ve only gat three bedroom though, so we’re gonna have ta share.”  
Well, I’ve been sharing with Toki already, so no big deal. “Um, I’ll stay with Toki.” Unless maybe he minds? “You okay with that?” No objection, okay then.  
Skwisgaar looks stubborn. “I ams not wantings to share. Ladies don’ts like it when dere’s udder people in de room.”  
Pickles just shrugs. “Eh, okie then. Jeff, we can fit an extra bed in my room, if yer cool with thet.”  
He doesn’t object, and we move our stuff in. Why does Pickles have so many beds anyway? Other people must have lived here too, or something.  
At least there’s two bathrooms, that will make things a lot easier.  
We’re home.

I’d been wondering where we're gonna practice. We soon find out.  
This isn’t a garage, it’s a studio. Pickles has an entire PA system in here. And guitars, and, well everything. It’s fucking awesome. And like, all soundproofed and shit. He has everything we need to play anywhere we want to, like ever.  
Skwisgaar and Jeff have their own amps, and they’re pretty good ones. But Toki’s is crap, and he’s still using Skwisgaar’s guitar anyway. So he takes one of Pickle’s amps. Pickles offers him his choice of the guitars, but he wants to stick with the Flying V.   
Toki is staring at the keyboard in the corner, Pickles notices. “Ya wanna play thet? Go ahead.”  
Can he play those? He’s never said anything about it. You’d think he’d have mentioned it. “Hey. You can play that?”  
He nods. “Ya, I takes piano lessons when I’s littles. They lets me play the church music sometimes.”  
Skwisgaar is curious too, “I wants to hear dis. Plays.”  
So he plays a little, he’s actually really good at it. I don’t think we can use that in our music though, keyboards aren’t very metal.  
Pickles is impressed too. “Ya can play thet anytime ya want, okie? Yer pretty good, better than me, anyway.”  
We go ahead and do a short practice, to get the board set how we want our sound. Pickles has it tuned for his drums already, so he just tweaks it for the rest of us until he’s satisfied.  
Surprisingly, Skwisgaar doesn’t comment. I guess he doesn’t know much about PA systems. I mean, _I_ don’t even know that much about them, but I can manage the basics at least. You know, just adjust the EQ mostly, I don’t know much about the fine-tuning part.

We need jobs, or something. Our money isn’t going to last very long.   
I ask Pickles about places to look, but Skwisgaar objects. “Yous not getting jobs. We needs to practice, nots be doing stupid work.”  
“But um, we’re almost out of money?”  
“Dude, it’s okie. Me an’ Skwisgaar tawkled about it, and we’ve gat enough money ta cover ya fer a few months. An’ we jest wanna focus on tha music.”  
Hm, Jeff didn’t even offer to get a job. And I know he doesn’t have much money either. Well, if Pickles and Skwisgaar really wanna support all of us...  
So we practice, and write more songs.   
I was worried that Skwisgaar and Pickles would fight about that, they both seem to be trying to run this show. But they’re cool. We’re all working really well together, so far.  
I bring up money again, just to be sure, but they both assure me that once we’re good enough, we’ll be making plenty of money.   
Maybe we’re gonna be like, the biggest band in the world. That would be brutal.  
Oh man, I can’t wait.


	3. Dethklok Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Band practice, and going on tour. Murderface will finally turn up, you’ve been missing him, haven’t you? Also Charles.  
> Still in Nathan’s POV.  
> Warnings: Yep, still a couple OC’s

We need a name, like now. I don’t want any of that last minute naming like we did with Brutal Metal Snake. Yeah, it’s a cool name, but still. “We need a name. How are we going to do this?”  
Skwisgaar grabs a spare notebook and a pen. “We tinks, I writes dem down. Okays?”  
Pickles gives him an odd look. “Dude, can ya even write in English?”  
“Pfft, of courses I cans. Go ons, makes names now.”  
Jeff is an idiot. “Let’s call us The Lone Rangers.”  
Pickles spares me having to correct him. “Dude, we aren’t ex’ctly lone.”  
“Metallisk.”   
“Toki, English only. None of that shit. Um... maybe The Four Horseman?”  
Skwisgaar writes it down, but looks confused. Pickles laughs. “What’s with all tha horsie themes anyway? An’ besides, there’s five of us. We should call it Death Clock, like countdown ta when yer dead.”  
That’s a pretty cool name, actually. I take the notebook from Skwisgaar. “What the hell is all this?”   
“I draws naked ladies. Yous don’t tink fast enoughs.”  
Well let’s see... Skwisgaar _can’t_ write in English, at least not worth a fuck. His spelling sucks. But, you know, “Dethklok”, that looks pretty cool. “Hey guys? Let’s just go with this one, okay? Spelled all fucked up like this?”  
No one disagrees.   
We like, need a cool way to write it. A logo. For posters and all that. I guess I can probably draw something, if nobody else wants to try it. It needs a sword in it, swords are brutal. And clock... gears or something?  
I grab a notebook and start doodling ideas.

A few days later, I show them what all I’ve come up with. I’ve never really tried to design shit before, what if they hate it? I lay out a couple pages of my attempts, and wait nervously as they look them over.  
“Oh ja, dis one. Dis one ams nice.”  
Pickles disagrees. “Eh, too fancy. This one’s prab’ly better.”  
Skwisgaar studied them again. “Ja, you’s right. Toki, Jeffs? Yous wants an opinions?”  
Toki studied them all carefully. He’s seen a most of them before, I draw in our room a lot. “I likes that one too.”  
Jeff doesn’t seem to even care, which is kinda strange. But then he doesn’t usually have an opinion anyway. At least, he doesn’t seem to.  
I’m glad they like they one they do, it’s my favorite. “Okay. I’ll like, draw this one better.”  
Skwisgaar has told us that we’re not going to play anywhere anytime soon, but it doesn’t hurt to be ready. I need a ruler and shit. “Hey Pickles? You got a ruler?”  
“Ya, there’s sahm shit ‘round here sahmwhere. I’ll dig it up fer ya.”  
Well good. I’ll do this later then. We’ll have to take some pictures too, eventually. I’m cool with waiting though, to let my hair get longer. It’s still too fucking short.

 

We practice a lot. Every day, usually. Well, I can’t sing every day, the way I do it, I’d kill my voice. But they play every day. We keep looking for ways to make it even heavier, we want it to be as brutal as possible.   
Skwisgaar is a slave driver. Everything has to be perfect, he won’t accept less. But what scares me is, I’m getting to be just as bad as he is. We have to be heavier.  
Jeff needs a lot of pushing, he’s kinda lazy. Sometimes I wonder if Skwisgaar made a mistake in choosing him, he just doesn’t seem to fit like the rest of us do. Maybe it’s just ‘cause he’s older, I don’t know. He plays fine, but... I don’t know what it is. He just needs to be better?  
Skwisgaar is criticizing the hell out of Toki now. It seems like nothing he does is ever good enough for him. He tries so hard though, and he’s gotten even faster, but Skwisgaar is never happy. I don’t think Toki will ever be good enough for him.  
They’re so fast though, when they really start playing against each other it’s... there’s no words for it. They’re both incredible.  
And Pickles. I never did listen to Snakes N Barrels so I don’t know about that shit, but as a drummer he’s awesome. I’ve really never heard better.  
We need more practice though. We’re not tight enough, not perfect enough yet.  
But we have time.  
I try not to get impatient, we have time.

Toki gets bored. When we’re not writing or practicing, there’s really nothing to do. We watch a lot of tv, but that usually doesn’t hold his attention. I guess you have to like, grow up watching it a lot. Or something. I don’t think his family had a tv, but I’ve never really asked. He still gets all funny if anyone asks about anything from his past. I don’t blame him, but ya know, it’s still pretty weird.  
But he’s always wanting us to do stuff with him. Like play ball or something. We do sometimes, but he just has way more energy than everybody else.  
We drink a lot. Well, I guess Skwisgaar and Toki don’t really drink that much, but the rest of us do. Pickles and Jeff, it’s like they can’t even function without a beer in their hand. I’m getting almost as bad lately. I don’t know, it’s just easier. When we’re not practicing, we’re drinking. I know I’m drinking way too much lately, but I really don’t care.   
Why doesn’t Pickles have a Nintendo or something? Maybe we can get one? Well, probably not until we start getting paying gigs. That would be fun to have though. And I bet Toki would love video games.  
Maybe I should write that down? Nah, I’ll probably remember.  
Pickles is talking about getting an old bus. Something that we can kinda stay in, so we can play farther away. Jeff’s van isn’t big enough to carry everything we’d need, and all Pickles has is a little car. I want a motorcycle, but that wouldn’t really solve our problem. And I have no money left anyway. But maybe someday.   
Fuck that, I _know_ that someday I’ll have one.

There’s this witch who lives next door. Well, I don’t know if she’s really a witch, but she like, should be. She’s old, and really strange. If she dressed in regular old people clothes, she’d look like a sweet little grandma. But she wears tight shit. It doesn’t look half bad, except she’s _old_ , and it’s just so wrong. Like jacking off to your grandma or something, disturbing.   
I’m pretty sure Skwisgaar’s doing her.  
But she likes to feed us and shit. Which is good, because none of us can really cook at all.  
Toki loves her, I guess he didn’t have a grandma. She’s kinda adopted him, always giving him little treats and shit like that. Man, I hope she doesn’t want to fuck him. One guitarist screwing old ladies is enough.  
Toki just bounced through all excited. Something about how Mamma Cora has a special treat just for him. Oh yeah, that’s what she tells us to call her. Anyway, I worry about him. I know he’s older than me and I shouldn’t, but I don’t want people to take advantage of him. He’s got enough crap in his past without anybody adding to it.  
She’s probably waiting for him in lingerie. _Ugh_. Well, if that’s what he wants...  
He isn't gone too long. We’re all watching tv when he runs back in, waving a stuffed animal excitedly. “Looks what Mamma Cora makes me!”  
Jeff looks at it, confused. “It’s a stuffed animal, so what? What are you, like five?”  
He looks hurt. “Fucks you Jeffs, Nobody ever gives me anything before!”  
Pickles holds out his hand. “Hey Toki, lemme see. Ohh look, it’s gat a little devil tail, heh.”  
“Um, yeah Toki, that’s pretty cool.” If she’s making him stuffed animals, she probably doesn’t want to fuck him. This is good.   
Why do I even care?  
Toki smiles at us, then leaves to put it in our room.

He sleeps with the bear. It’s kinda weird, for a guy his age and all. But I guess I understand it. It’s like... proof that somebody actually cares about him. I mean, he knows we care, but we pretty much suck at showing it. The others know too, and are cool with it. Well, maybe not Jeff, but he won’t say anything. We’ve all started calling it the deddy bear, I think it was Pickles who came up with it.   
I just realized today that school started a while back. I am officially a dropout now, I guess. It’s not like I want to go the whatever school they have here anyway, and nobody’s even mentioned it. I think they forget how old I really am, which is just fine with me.  
Our songs are coming along great, Skwisgaar’s looking for places for us to start playing soon. He won’t accept an opening act, and I guess it’s hard to get a club to book a band that’s never even played before as the headliner. But he’ll find it, he’s annoyingly persistent. His English really sucks though, I may have to take over the dealing part. I could do it. Maybe. Even with my new ID, I’m still not twenty-one. Maybe if we do it together? Yeah, that would probably work.  
Or maybe we should just let Pickles handle it? I mean, he’s done it before. I think.

For some reason, I was thinking about all the shit Dave used to say about Snakes N Barrels. I was never into them, but I do know they were pretty big. So why’d they quit? Did they just get tired of it? Is Pickles going to get tired of us too?  
So fuck it, I just ask him one day. It’s just us at home, Skwisgaar and Toki went somewhere, and I really have no idea where the hell Jeff is. “Pickles? Can I like, ask you about something?”  
“Ya sure, what’s on yer mind?”  
“Um, your old band, Snakes N Barrels... why’d you quit?”  
He sighs. “Drugs. We all gat in way too deep, and we jest lost control I guess. Thet’s why I like it thet at least three of ya don’t do tha hard shit.”  
I just nod, but I’m confused. What’s he mean, “at least three of us”? I mean, I know I don’t, and Toki doesn’t either. Well, except a little weed sometimes, but that doesn’t even count. But I’ve never seen Jeff or Skwisgaar do anything at all, so what does he mean?  
“Pickles?”  
“No offense Nat’an, but I’d rather naught tawlk ‘bout it too much, if thet’s okie with ya.”  
I let it go, but I can’t help wondering what he meant by that.

It’s Pickles who tells me the news. There’s this guy coming to town that they said can play bass with his dick. That can’t be true, I mean, like how? It’s probably just a gimmick to draw a crowd or something. He tells me this while we’re watching tv, not even during a commercial. I ask Pickles which bar.  
“Dude, it’s thet one down next ta tha gay bar. Ya know, tha crappy one?”  
I don’t know if that’s really a gay bar or not, but I know which club he means. The one Skwisgaar won’t even consider us playing in, even though they’ve asked. “So do you think he can really do it? Somehow?”  
He shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve seen sahm weird shit out there. Mostly when I was high, but it still counts. I’m gonna go watch ‘em though, tha show’s tonight.”  
Toki wanders in, probably bored again. “Goings to watch what?”  
“Jest sahm dude play bass with his dick.”  
“Oh wowee, yous can do that?” I see him glance at his guitar.  
“Uh Toki? Don’t try it. I can pretty much guarantee it won’t end well.”  
“Ya dude, ya’d prab’ly git it caught in tha strings or sahmthin’. Ya know, cut it all up.”  
 _Argh_. I don’t even _play_ guitar and that makes me cringe.  
Toki sits with us. “Maybes Jeffs and Skwisgaar will wants to go to?”  
“Maybe. Hey, where are they anyway?”  
He just shrugs. “Don’ts know, they went somewheres.”  
Oh. Well, whatever.

That night we go to the bar, all of us. When we walk in, I get the weirdest feeling. I can’t even really describe it, it’s just like... I don’t know. Like when you put in the last piece of a puzzle, maybe. Or impending doom. Nobody else seems to feel it, or if they do, they’re not reacting to it.  
There’s some local band that Skwisgaar refuses to even stay inside and listen to. They’re not that bad. Okay, they suck, but we all did at one point. Suddenly I understand why Skwisgaar won’t let us play any shows until he says we’re ready. He wants to skip this step. But we probably can, between him and Pickles. They’re known.  
Then the band takes a break, and a guy with a bass walks up on stage. The crowd falls silent. We wait.  
He stands with his back to the audience, then pulls down his pants. Ugh, fuck, I don’t wanna see his hairy ass! But before I can even really react, he plays a couple notes.  
It’s gotta be a trick. He’s just using his hand, right?   
And then he holds his hand out, and the playing continues. Whoa. As much as I really don’t wanna look at some guy’s junk, I’ve gotta see this. I watch his hairy ass twitch as he plays, disgusted and mesmerized.   
Finally he turns, and oh fuck it’s not a trick, he’s really doing it! He plays a few more notes, then pulls his pants back up.

I glance at my band, they look as astounded as I feel. I’ve gotta talk to this guy, that was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’m not the only one with this idea.  
Pickles looks dazed. “I jest looked at this guy’s dick, an’ now I wanna talk ta ‘em. Kinda awkward.”  
But we head over to talk to him anyway. Me, Pickles, and Toki anyway. Jeff is shunning him and pretending to be friendly with the band, who’s getting ready to play some more. And Skwisgaar is trying to pick up the bartender. He’ll probably succeed.  
He looks up suspiciously as we approach. “What’sh the matter? You never scheen a guy play with hish hog before?”  
“Uh, no. Not like that anyway. That was... pretty cool.”  
“Ya dude, thet was fuckin’ awesome! What’s yer name anyway?”  
He relaxes, apparently deciding we’re cool. “Murderface. Are you a band?”  
Pickles nods. “Ya, I’m Pickles, this is Nat’an an’ Toki. Over there is Skwisgaar, and...” He scans the crowd, then points, “An’ thet’s Jeff. We’re Dethklawk. Is Murderface yer real name?”  
“Shomebody named _Picklesh_ ish ashking me about real namesh? Yesh, it’sh my lasht name. I don’t ushe the other one.”

Skwisgaar walks over to join us. He probably got her number already.  
All the sudden, that weird feeling is back, it’s stronger. I guess it’s kinda like maybe electricity in the air. Or impending doom, that still works too.   
Suddenly there’s a snapping sound. Something hits me, and I go down.   
Toki, it was Toki. He somehow managed to take down both me and Skwisgaar, what the fuck? He’s really fucking fast. Why am I on the floor? And why is everybody screaming?  
I sit up and see it. Him. Jeff.   
The light bridge fell, we were mostly right under it. Jeff is... I’m pretty sure he’s dead. There’s blood everywhere, and people are still screaming. I wish they’d shut up.  
Toki saved us, I guess. I mean, maybe it wouldn’t have hit us anyway? I don’t know.  
Pickles is still standing with Murderface. They look as shocked as I feel. How did nobody else get hit? That seems impossible, there were so many people up close.  
It’s all so surreal. Screaming and paramedics, and yes, Jeff is dead. Most people have left, but we’re still here. The staff is apologizing, they know he’s our band. What good does that do?  
Then Skwisgaar shocks me. He turns to Murderface, who I’d kinda forgotten about, even though he’s still here with us. “We ams needing a bass player nows. Can yous play dat ting wit yous hands?”  
He seemed offended by that. “Oh courshe I can!”  
Oh, okay. “So uh, you wanna be out bass player? Because ours like, just died. Yeah.”  
He just shrugs. Yeah, schure.”  
I don’t even know this guy, but somehow it seems right, like he’s supposed to be playing with us. Like the last puzzle piece. A bloody piece maybe.

Murderface moves in with us. He was just staying with somebody anyway, didn’t even have his own place, so it’s like no big deal for him.   
It doesn’t seem to bother him at all that he’s replacing a dead guy. We’ve moved Jeff’s stuff to a closet, we really don’t know what to do with it, but still.  
I worry that we’ll have to basically start over, now. We were finally ready to start playing clubs too.  
Skwisgaar wants Toki and Murderface in the jam room. We follow them, because we’re curious.  
“Toki, you plays my parts, okays?” This is a big surprise, but he just nods. Skwisgaar puts on Pickles’s bass. “Murderfaces, you plays what I shows you?” Okay, he seems cool with that.  
They’re ready. Skwisgaar nods to Toki, who starts playing. Then he plays the bass line and Murderface copies him. He’s way better than Jeff was, if he can do it like this.  
I can tell by Toki’s expressions that he’s messing up some. I mean, it sounds fine to me, but I know that look he gets. Skwisgaar will probably bitch about it later, but he’s ignoring it for now and concentrating on Murderface.  
They run through pretty much every song we have. Pickles brings out some beers, and we drink while we watch them play.  
Skwisgaar pushes them hard. Toki is used to the abuse, but not used to playing the lead. And Murderface, he looks like he’s in pain now. But he also looks like he likes it. Or something.  
I need another beer.

Finally, they’re done. For today at least. Skwisgaar looks pleased. Toki goes straight for the beer, holding it in his fret hand with a sigh of relief. If he didn’t have such hard callouses, he’d probably be bleeding by now. Actually, I’m pretty sure of that.  
We all sit together, drinking.  
Pickles turns to Skwisgaar. “So what’d ya think? Can we still be ready soon? ‘Cause I kinda found us a bus, ya know, a tour bus.”  
“We gots de money?” Pickles nods. “Buys dat shit, Pickle.”  
“Okie then, I will. It’s kinda crappy rally, but tha engine’s s’posed ta be good. It kinda smells, but...” he just shrugs.  
“Oh wowee, we’s finally going to gets to start playings?”  
“Ja, we just gives Murderfaces a little time to learns good. Den we go.”  
Pickles pulls out a joint. He’s the only one of us who smokes regularly, but sometimes we’ll join him. Now seems to be one of those times. I’m surprised when Skwisgaar reaches for it first, he’s never seemed interested before. But it’s obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing, I guess he’s just one of those people who usually smokes in private. He’s a private kinda guy.  
But what the hell, we all get high.   
It’s like we’re a family or something, only, you know, better.

Pickles brings the bus home a week later. He wasn’t kidding, it’s a piece of crap. The whole thing is painted in black primer, which looks pretty much okay. Well, in the dark, anyway. It’s got six bunk beds, a tiny sitting area, and a toilet. And the carpet _reeks_ of dog pee, what the fuck did they do with it, use it for a kennel?  
We rip out all the carpet, it’s just too horrible to deal with. With that gone, the smell becomes at least bearable. We clean it the best we can, which probably isn’t very well. And like, put a bunch of air fresheners in it.   
The cargo area is surprisingly clean. I mean, it’s all dusty, but it doesn’t stink or anything. And it looks like all our stuff should fit without too much problem.   
Pickles hands me a can of red paint and tells me to paint the logo I drew on the sides. So I’m painting on our bus. With a paintbrush. I suck at this, it keeps running. I’m ready to just give up and quit, but Toki tells me it looks cool, like it’s dripping blood. Everyone agrees with him, so what the hell, I keep painting. It’s better than cleaning anyway, they all stink like dog piss and bleach. That’s really not a pleasant combo there.   
It takes a lot of work, but finally the bus is pretty much livable.   
Oh yeah, and we got some pictures taken, to make posters and shit. It’s just us, ya know, trying to look brutal and all, and my logo at the bottom. They turned out alright.  
And now we’ve got a schedule. We’re actually, finally, going on tour.  
Fuck yeah.

 

Me, Pickles, and Murderface are gonna take turns driving. None of us have a commercial licence or whatever, but who gives a fuck? We hit the road.  
We play our shows, and we totally kick some ass. Everybody’s asking us, wherever we go, when we’re gonna make a CD?. They wanna buy it. I guess we’re gonna have to do that soon. We’re making money, but a lot of it’s going to gas and food right now. This bus gets _horrible_ milage. It’s really brutal.  
We play different cities on Fridays and Saturdays, then have most of the week to wander to the next place. We end up taking some odd detours, because we can.  
Like today, we saw this river, so we stopped for a while. And went swimming. It was fun until Pickles saw an alligator, and we got the hell out of there really fucking fast.   
It might have just been a log, Pickles is kinda high. Nobody wants to take a closer look though, so we just leave.  
We’re getting groupies already. After a show, there’s always these chicks hanging around, wanting to fuck us. It’s kinda weird, but cool. Sometimes we take some back to the bus with us. Well, Skwisgaar almost always does, but the rest of us sometimes pass. But still, we can take our pick and get laid if we want to, which is pretty fucking cool.  
It’s really strange having sex on the bus. In bunk beds, with other people right there. But we’re getting comfortable with each other pretty fast, living like this. 

We got paid a lot more than we expected tonight, so we rent a couple hotel rooms. Real beds and real showers and shit, you know. I’m sharing with Toki. Pickles bangs on our door. “Hey guys! They gatta hawt tub! Hawt tub party in ten minutes, an’ bring yer cooler!”  
Sounds fun. We change and head down to the party, the others are already there.   
Toki leaves his shirt on like he always does, and Pickles objects. “Dude! No clothes inna hawt tub, take thet shirt aff!”  
I see him hesitate, and it looks like he’s gonna just to go back to the room. I stop him, and speak too low for the others to hear. “Hey. It’s okay, they probably won’t even notice. Just do it.”  
He does, being careful not to turn his back to them, and gets in too.  
We all get completely wasted. For some reason, it seems like you get drunk faster in hot water.  
I’m gone, I can’t even follow the conversations going on around me.  
There’s a splash beside me, and I open my eyes to see Toki climb out. Oh he’s just moving the other cooler closer. It suddenly gets quiet, and I see them all looking at him. They turn to me, and I just shake my head. Fuck, he’s so wasted that he forgot he’s shirtless. Don’t say anything, please don’t say anything.  
Toki hops back in, and conversation awkwardly resumes.  
We stay until we run out of beer, then stumble off to our rooms to pass out.  
Somehow, we actually find our rooms.

I wake up early, for some fucked up reason. Toki is still passed out, he didn’t even manage to change. Didn’t it say this place has free food or something? I throw some clothes on, and decide to go down and find out.  
Pickles is there. And they have donuts and coffee. Well, it’s better than nothing. I grab some and join him, he looks thoughtful.  
“Hey Nat’an? I know I was rally drunk, but Toki’s back’s all fucked up, isn’t it? Or did I jest imagine thet?”  
“Uh no, you saw it. But don’t ask him about it, okay?”  
“So thet’s why he never takes his shirt aff? What the fuck happened ta him anyway, sahm kinda accident? Do ya even know?”  
“Well um, yeah. But I can’t tell you.”  
Pickles nods, in an understanding way. “Well, I hope he gits over thet, because we’ve _gatta_ git a hawt tub. Thet was awesome. An’ we’re naught gonna tease him ‘bout it or anythin’ like thet.”  
I eat my donuts, a little surprised I’m not hung over. I guess that’s proof right there that I drink too much, it just doesn’t even hurt me anymore.  
Pickles has found a newspaper somebody left, and is reading it. I take a couple more donuts and head back to the room.

Toki’s awake. He’s just sitting on the bed, looking miserable.  
“Fucks, I forgets to put my shirt back on. They sees?”  
“Um yeah. But don’t worry about it. I mean, Pickles asked me, but I like, didn’t tell him anything.”  
He looks at me strangely. “How coulds you tells him? You doesn’t even know.”  
I was right, he really doesn’t remember that he ever told me. “Uh, yeah I do. You told me way back, one night when we were wasted. Um... it was the day you bought the guitar, I think. That’s, you know, why I didn’t ask about your finger. When I broke it for you.”  
“Fucks. And you don’t hates me?” He’s so weird.  
“Why the fuck would I hate you? And they won’t hate you either, don’t worry about it so much.”  
Skwisgaar beats on the door. “Wakes de fucks ups, we’s gots to be going!”  
We grab our stuff and head down to the bus. Apparently, Murderface is driving first today. We should like, hire a bus driver or something. Eventually.   
I decide to get some more sleep, and head for my bunk. They’ll wake me up when it’s my turn to drive.

I don’t know where the fuck we are, I don’t pay any attention unless I’m driving. And I’m not, Pickles is. Toki is riding up front with him, he likes watching the scenery or something. Pickles calls back to us, “Hey guys, we’re takin’ a detour!”   
Huh? I look out the window as Pickles turns off the highway. There’s some sort of amusement park ahead. Oh, yeah this could be fun. It doesn’t look too crowded, I guess since it’s a weekday and all. But that’s good, it means we won’t have to wait in line, and shit like that.  
“What de fucks Pickle?”  
“Ah com’on Skwisgaar, we’re jest gonna have sahm fun. Ya gatta come ride shit with us!”  
“Fucks no, I’s not ridings. I gets de moving sickness, all throw-ups. I wills just be findings a naked lady show or somethings.”  
Pickles looks at the rest of us. “Uh, Toki? Ya don’t git motion sick, do ya?”  
“Nopes.”  
“Nat’an? Murderface? Ya in?”  
Of course I’m in. “Yeah.”  
Murderface shakes his head. “I think I’ll jusht schtick with Shwisgaar, I don’t like ridesh much. Have fun, kidsh.”  
Pickles flips him off. “Okie then, We’ll jest meet back here later?”  
So we split up. Toki seems really excited, but he’s probably never been to a place like this before. 

We buy our tickets. If I was still carrying my old ID, we could have saved three dollars. But who cares?  
We ride everything that doesn’t totally suck, like the kiddie rides. They have this one roller coaster that’s big enough to have a couple loops in it, we ride that one several times. For some reason, Pickles decides that we should all scream “cinnamon buns” when we go upside down. So they do that, but I resist. Well, for the first couple of times anyway. Oh who cares, it’s funny. For some reason.  
We spend the day getting flipped and whipped around, and eating a ton of crappy amusement park food. It’s pretty great.  
Someday we’re gonna be too famous to do shit like this. Everybody will know who we are, and we won’t be able to just act silly and have fun.  
But we’ll like, tour the whole world then. I guess it’s really not such a bad trade.

Later, fuck how long has it been? I don’t even know anymore, it seems like we’ve been on the road forever. Anyway, another city, another show. This has become our life.  
They know who we are now, soon the whole fucking world will know.  
There was another accident tonight, for some reason we see way more of those than we probably should. It’s almost like we’re cursed or something, but that’s just, you know, stupid. It doesn’t stop people from coming though. In fact, it seems like the more carnage that happens around us, the more people want to see us. It’s fucking brutal.  
It’s always weird shit too, the kitchen fire that got out of hand and burned a bunch of people, that roof beam that fell in, freaky shit. I can’t even remember all the ways people have died in front of our stage anymore, they’re all starting to run together in my head. We’ve never been in any real danger, the stuff tends to happen far just enough away.   
We did get coated in plaster when that beam fell though. There was a big cloud, and then we were all white. I rubbed the dust out of my eyes and looked at the others. And that was cool. They’s done the same thing I had, and their eyes looked really dark in the mask of white. Like skulls. Like they were all dead.   
We gotta get some makeup or something, this is too awesome not to do on purpose.  
I tell them about it after the show, and they all agree.   
Pickles does the shopping, bringing back like, old Halloween makeup. I have no idea where he found it, that was a while back. And he didn’t just find white, he got black too. Yeah, this is gonna look freaky.  
We try it out the next night, and they fucking love it. Even more chicks that usual are waiting for us when we finish. We’re gonna keep using it.

Pickles has been acting weird today. He was really out of it last night after we got offstage. I mean, we know he still does a lot of drugs, but this is something different. I decide to go find him.  
It’s not too hard, he’s in his bunk. With Toki.  
Pickles is sitting with his knees pulled up tight and his arms wrapped around them. “No Toki, I can’t let ya. I jest can’t.”  
“But Pickle, I onlies want to tries it. Why’s that bad? You does it!”  
This is weird. “Uh, hey. What the fuck is going on?”  
“Gawd Nat’an, I’m sahrry. I fucked up bad. An’ now I’m jest tryin’ ta save this stupid kid.”  
“I’s not a fucking kid, Pickle.”  
“Oh, ya are if ya think ya can mess with this shit and walk away. It’ll eat yer soul, an’ I’m naught gonna let that happen ta ya.”  
“Okay. Someone tell me WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!”  
“He still gots it!”  
“Pickles. What’s in your hand? Show me!”  
With a sigh, he does. It’s just a couple small syringes. “Uh, what are those?”  
“Speedball, Nat’an. I fuckin’ know better, an’ I did it anyway.” He drops his head to his arms.  
Okay, that’s not one I’ve heard of before. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean like regular speed though. “So, what’s that?”  
“Coke an’ heroin, mixed tagether. Sahm guy gave ‘em ta me after tha show.”

Skwisgaar comes in, probably wondering what we’re all doing in Pickle’s bunk. I can tell he heard at least the last part of the conversation.  
“Pickle, I ams not letting you does dat shit.”  
Oh good, he’ll listen to Skwisgaar, won’t he? But then it gets weirder.  
“Fuck aff Blondie, or are you gonna try ta tell me thet wasn’t coke I caught ya doing? “Cause I’m naught stupid, ya know.”  
What?! No fucking way.  
“Ja Pickle, you’s right abouts dat. But I’s not doings it now, and I’s not doings it when we ams playing!”  
I’m shocked. Seriously. I’m not even sure Toki is following all this. We sit and listen.  
“Dude, I fuckin’ _need_ it, ya jest don’t understand!”  
“Ja I does. Gives it to me, I will gets rid of it.”  
Pickles just curls tighter, if that’s even possible. “Can’t. I jest can’t.”  
Skwisgaar points to me. “Watches him. I be rights back.”   
He comes back with a joint, and holds it out. “Here, takes dis. It will helps.” Pickles takes it, finally loosening his hand. Skwisgaar pries out the syringes, and heads outside to destroy them, or whatever.  
Pickles smokes the joint, and seems to finally calm down.   
Just how many drugs do we have on this bus anyway?

For some reason, I keep thinking about all this. I’m driving now, and Skwisgaar comes up to ride with me for a while. Oh what the hell, I have to ask.  
“So Skwisgaar? You do coke?”  
“Ja, sometimes. Don’t starts wit me Nathans, I knows what I’s can handle.”  
“No man, I’m just, you know, surprised. I mean, you don’t even drink all that much or anything.”  
He gives me a funny sideways look. “I drinks more dan you tink, I just doesn’t always be doing in in front of everybodies. But don’ts be worrying abouts me, I can takes care of myself.”  
I just nod. Hell, if he’s been doing shit all along and we’ve never even noticed, then I guess it’s not a problem.   
“So uh, do you think that Pickles is alright?”  
“Ja, probablies. He has beens down dis road befores. Ands he didn’ts does de rest of it, he wanted us to be stoppings him. So he will probablies do de same ting next times he gets somethings he can’ts handle.”  
I think about this. Yeah, he was kinda like he wanted us to take it away by force if we had to. He couldn’t stop himself, but he could resist until we stopped him. I guess that’s okay then.  
It’s funny though, even when you think you know someone, they still surprise you sometimes.

It’s like, spring again. How long have we been touring now? Months, anyway. It’s Toki’s birthday, but he doesn’t want to tell anyone. He’s nineteen, and I’m “officially” almost twenty. We’re staying in a motel again, for a day or two. It’s just easier to take a break from the bus every now and then, it gets so cramped. We don’t wanna start fighting, and all that.  
Anyway, we take off, just walking around together. Someday we’re gonna be too famous to do this. No matter where we go, people will know who we are. But for now, we can still disappear if we feel like it.  
We find an arcade, and blow most of the day and most of our money in there, it’s a lot of fun. I was right, Toki loves video games. We play some together, and some just against the machines. Even though he’s new at it, he can still kick my ass. Is it possible to have a natural talent for video games?   
Eventually though, we head back to join everyone else.  
“Dudes, where’ve ya been?”   
“Oh, just like, out doin’ stuff.”  
They let it go. I think we’re leaving in the morning anyway.

A few shows later, we get approached but some strange guy. He’s like, all neatly dressed. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who normally hangs out at metal shows. “Gentlemen, I have a business proposal for you.”  
We’ve had people make offers before, we all know what they really want. “Fuck aff man, we don’t need sahmbody spongin’ aff us!”  
“Well, wouldn’t you prefer to concentrate on your music and leave all the booking and hassles to someone else?”  
“Hmm, dat actually sounds goods to me, Maybe we should does dis Pickle.” Skwisgaar is studying him, trying to figure him out, I guess. “Who ams you, and why’s you offerings us dis?”  
“My name is Charles Ofdensen, and I’m a lawyer. I love music, and have been searching for a band capable of going all the way to the top. And here, in you five, I see that potential. I can make this happen for you, I’ll guarantee it. What do you say?”  
That sounds too good to be true really. But contracts and legal stuff and all that, we all kinda suck at. Maybe we do need someone?  
Pickles is very skeptical. “Ya can _guarantee_ it? Dude, it’s like yer tha devil or sahmthin’. Wait- Yer naught, are ya?”  
He smiles. “Somehow I think the devil would look a little more imposing, don’t you?”  
That’s not really an answer, but you know, whatever. He seems alright. The guy hands us a card with a phone number on it. “Discuss it and let me know.”   
And then he leaves.

We do discuss it. Pickles has been handling most of that stuff, but he’s usually pretty fucked up, screws up a lot. But the rest of us just don’t have the experience to even try, not even Skwisgaar. He was always just in somebody else’s band, letting them run it.  
But if we’re going to be really big, we really do need a manager, and well... I don’t know, he seemed alright.  
I make the call, and he gives me directions to the hotel he’s staying at.  
We go there.  
He has beer. He has chairs. He wants to talk. “So tell me, what do you all want?”  
“Um, like what do you mean, what do we want?”  
“I mean what do you want? If you could have anything at all?”  
Wow, he seems serious about this. Anything? Really? I don’t know what to say. But I seem to be alone in that.  
“Dude, I wanna live in a castle. With a hawt tub.”  
“Makes it a castle that is shaped likes a dragons, dats would be cool.”  
“And it needsh to have dungeons and torture chambersh and schit like that.”  
Toki’s quiet too, I guess he just can’t think that big.  
This Ofdensen guy just nods. “You can have all that, if you want it.”  
No fucking way. But he seems so serious... I just gotta say something. “Hey. How the fuck can you promise this shit? I mean, you’ve like, heard us play once. Why should we even believe you?”  
He just stares at me. “Because you know what you want, and I know what I want, and together we can have it all.”  
He seems so fucking sure about all this.

“Fine then. Fuck it, let’s do this. Skwisgaar can have his dragon-shaped castle, with like, a dungeon or whatever. Right?” He nods agreeably. “And you’ll handle all the business shit?”  
“Yes Nathan, all you will have to do is play. And record albums, of course. I will handle everything else.”  
“Um... well, does anybody _not_ want to do this?” Nobody objects. “Well okay then, I guess you’re our manager now.”  
He nods. That’s all. Seriously, this guy’s like a fucking robot or something, he’s just not normal.  
He pulls out a shitload of paperwork. It’s all like, super-organized, with colored tabs and shit. Oh fuck, we’ve gotta _sign_ all that? It seems so.  
We do, not even bothering to read it. If we’re gonna be trusting this guy, we might as well start now. He puts everything back in his briefcase, then actually _smiles_ at us.   
“Well gentlemen, the ride is just beginning.”


End file.
